


Hidden fears.

by Costa_Cat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 50/50 - Freeform, Angst, Cute, F/M, Harry helps Draco, M/M, Panic Attacks, but some fluff, fears, not a butt load of fluff either, only some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7632556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costa_Cat/pseuds/Costa_Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco are just supposed to be completing a bet. How was Harry supposed to know that that Draco would be facing his biggest fear?</p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Draco has a panic attack and Harry helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden fears.

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine. I've had this idea floating around my head for a while and today I sat down and was like 'nope we are writing this right now'. Enjoy!

 

 _How many fucking stairs are there?_ Harry thinks to himself. _This is fucking bullshit._

He's starting to really wish that he didn't take stupid Malfoy up on that bet. It's not his fault the whole fucking Gryffindor common had riled him up and basically peer pressured him into it. How was he supposed to know that stupid fucking Malfoy is actually pretty decent at duelling?

He's not even that bothered at the cost of losing the bet, all he has to do is climb to the highest tower, jump off and fucking pray that he has the sense to pull his wand out and call out 'Accio Fire Bolt' and then use the broom to land.

He's not all that worried, he knows that Hermione and Ron will save him if he doesn't manage to do it, but he _will_ have to face the humiliation of not being smart enough to do it in time and being teased relentlessly by the Slytherin's, but even _**that's**_ not the worst part, no the worst thing about this whole fucking ordeal is that he has to walk up all these damn stairs.

He had prayed that there was no access to the tallest tower (which is really, really tall by the way) but nope of course there's stairs all the fucking way up. Perfect.

He looks up and takes in his surroundings and he realises that he's barely half way up, which causes him to groan. At least there's windows every other flight, and the view isn't half shit. He can easily see for miles and miles, and the further up they go the smaller everything looks and the further he can see. He feels a swell of happiness as he gazes out at his home, his happy place and maybe climbing these hellish stairs isn't that bad. (Harry Potter, the boy who faced Voldemort but couldn't face a couple hundred flight of stairs. Okay maybe it's not a _hundred_ but it definitely feels that way) He wonders if Malfoy also feels like that.

He glances at Malfoy and is struck when he realises that he hasn't said a single thing to Harry, not since they started the climb. Somehow he doubts that Malfoy has even looked at him. He doesn't think he's even taking his eyes off the floor. Huh. That's weird. Come to think of it he does look rather pale, his face white with what Harry can only describe as fear. But that's not right either, because he's not the one doing the forfeit of the bet. There's no way he's scared _for_ him because not even Ron and Hermione are scared or worried. They just looked amused. If he concentrates harder he can see that Malfoy is really, really pale, way more than normal (and that's saying something), and the fact that he hasn't even noticed Harry starin- no, not staring, he's simply studying him, is also suspicious. Something's not right here.

Maybe he's ill. That would make most sense in this situation, and it does sound like Malfoy to ignore being sick just to see him fail or humiliate himself. Despite his best interests he decides to ask if he's okay. Harry Potter does have a heart, and he's slightly worried that Malfoy is feeling ill and he's powering through it because of a stupid bet.

  
  


"Are you alright, Malfoy?" He asks evenly, trying to hide is growing suspicion.

  
  


"Fine, Potter." He snaps back, not taking his eyes off the floor.

  
  


"Are you sure because you really don't look alri-" Harry starts to say.

  
  


"Let's just get on with this." He interrupts, and Harry narrows his eyes when he hears Malfoy take a shaky breath in. He decides to take advantage of whatever the fuck is making Malfoy act so... weird.

He looks at him again, this time assessing ( _ **Not**_ _checking him out._ Harry tells himself) his whole body. Even from here he can tell that Malfoy is incredibly tense, his chest rising and falling way to evenly, as if he's making himself breath like that. He has his hands balled up in fists so tight that his fingers are starting to turn white. What the hell? Why is Malfoy acting so strange?

He watches as black birds fly in contrast to the bright blue sky. It's a nice colour, he muses to himself. He's just over half way up so he decides to test out a theory. If something is really wrong with Malfoy he won't engage in any conversation with him, and if Harry is to start one, he'll just insult him. Okay. Let's do this. Surely nothing can go wrong.

“So it's a great view from up here isn't?” He says casually, pretending that he's not looking at him from the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction. He watches Malfoy say “Oh yeah it's absolutely great isn't it?” without even moving his eyes from the ground.

Huh. There is _definitely_ something wrong then. But how to break Malfoy from this weird and quite frankly unsettling trance? A slightly evil grin takes over his face as he creates a game plan that's a win-win for Harry. He just has to make Malfoy as uncomfortable as possible. Either he gets some good information (and hopefully embarrassing) or he breaks him out of this weird mood he's in.

  
  


“So Malfoy how's your Father?” He asks slightly smugly, not bothering to be subtle about his staring because he knows that the blonde isn't going to look up. And sure enough he's right.

  
  


“Terrible of course. Azkaban isn't a child's party.” He answers truthfully, and also distractedly, still stubbornly staring at the ground, his face becoming more and more pale, and as a result Harry is becoming more concerned.

  
  


“Oh yeah? And your Mother? How's she feeling?” Harry asks, staring at Malfoy's face to see if there's any reaction at all. Alas he is rewarded with a small frown. At least that's something.

  
“Dead people don't feel things.” He says matter of factly, with a hint of sadness to his tone.

Harry's stomach drops in surprise and dread, his heart and lungs crawling up his throat. Oh. Oh _shit_. Even he knows how fucking insensitive he just was. He should drop this, it was a bad idea. He had no idea that his Mother was dead, and even with all that Malfoy had done he still can't help but feel bad. Fuck he feels like a dick. He shouldn't taken advantage of what ever the fuck is going on with him. He's just going to ignore him for the rest of this stupid situation and jump off this fucking building.

  
  


\------------/--------------

  
  


Apparently stupid, annoying Malfoy has different plans. As Harry is walking through the door at the top of the stairs (and seriously thank fuck he's at the top), that leads onto the roof, he looks back, expecting the blonde to walk with him, expect he just stops outside the door.

“You go ahead, I'll just stay h-here.” Malfoy says _very_ shakily when he sees Harry staring at him expectantly.

“Nice try Malfoy but you have to video it remember?” He says, taking the video camera from his pocket in his robes and showing it to him.

He looks up and meets Harry's eyes, and there is unmistakeable fear in them. His body is tense and his face has drained of all colour, and now that he looks he can see that Malfoy's whole body language is screaming fear.

  
  


“Are you sure you're all right?” He asks, making no move to hide the concern in his voice.  
  
“God dammit, I'm fucking fine let's just hurry this up.” He says somewhat impatiently, brushing past Harry and walking over to the ledge where they decided that Harry would jump. But as calm as he's trying to appear, Harry can clearly see the out right terror coming from Malfoy.

He watches curiously as the other boy goes right up to the edge and looks down. He hears a whispered curse and then suddenly he's backing frantically backing away.

  
  


“No no no fuck this. I can't do it, I can't fucking do it.” He says. The broken and fearful edge to his voice makes Harry rush over to him.

  
  


“Malfoy? Malfoy are you okay?” He asks softly. The blond boy just glares at him, fear still evident in his eyes.

  
“We are so fucking high up, oh my god.” His voice is small and terrified and Harry watches in a shocked confusion as Malfoy backs against a wall and slides all the way to the floor as he frantically breathes in and out.

Harry's eyes widen as he finally puts the pieces together. He's scared of heights. No, not just scared, he's fucking _terrified_ of them.

  
  


“Are you- Are you scared of heights?” He asks dumbly.

  
  


Malfoy just nods in answer, gulping breaths of air as if he couldn't breath.

  
  


“But what about Quidditch?” He questions, feeling seriously confused.

  
“Father.” He says, gasping. “He forces me too, says he wants a Quidditch champion.” His voice is shaky.

  
  


He watches as Malfoy struggles for breath, his eyes closed.

  
  


“Are you- shit, are you having a panic attack?” He asks, concern flooding his voice.

  
“Y-yes. Shit I can't breath. Fuck, fuck.” He confirms in between shaky gasps for air.

  
  


“Fuck what do I do, how do I help?” Harry's panicking now. Two hours ago he didn't know that Malfoy had a fear of heights and here Malfoy is, having a full blown panic attack and Harry has no idea what the fuck to do.

“Malfoy look at me.” He says desperately, but his gaze is set on the horizon, which is surely making everything worse. He decides to try something different, what's the worst that can happen anyway?

  
  


“Draco.” He says softly, the name weird on his tongue. “Draco look at me now.”

  
  


It works this time, as Malfoy manages to tear his gaze away from the edge and look into Harry's eyes. Terrified grey eyes meet frantic green ones and Harry pushes down his panic and fear in order to appear calm, when in reality he's freaking the fuck out.

  
“Don't focus on the height. Focus on me. Focus on my voice okay Draco? Just breathe.” He says soothingly.

  
  


It half works, Draco (apparently they're on first name basis) looks at him, and the fear in his eyes dies down a little, but his breathing is still erratic. Damn it's not working. What the hell does he do?

His eyes find themselves fixated on Draco's lips. Hmm. Maybe that will help? He briefly remembers Dean Thomas obsessing over a book because a character had kissed another one in order to calm him, and apparently it worked. So maybe it might work now? It's better than watching Draco and knowing that he feels as if he's suffocating.

Fuck it, he decides. What's the harm? As soon as his lips touch Draco's, he stops breathing. He stops everything actually, his body is frozen in shock? Fear? Surprise? Who the hell knows? Harry just has time to think that kissing the blonde actually feels quite nice, before Draco's pushing him off.

“It-it worked. _Fuck_.” He says breathlessly. Relief floods through Harry's body, and he's too busy being thankful that he's helped Draco with his panic attack, that he doesn't have time to think why he hasn't moved away yet.

  
  


“You're very welcome Draco.” He says, a little bit cocky.

  
  


The other boy looks at him in surprise, but he quickly schools his features and Harry realises that this is the first in his whole life that he's seen Draco without his walls our shields up. Draco Malfoy with his guards down around Harry Potter? Huh. Who would of thought? He tries to convince himself that he doesn't want to get to know Draco more, but he fails.

 

“Do you uh, do you wanna kiss again?” The blonde boy asks tentatively.

 

“Fuck yes.” He says with absolute certainty and he is met with a smile so genuine it nearly surprises him

  
  


_Nearly._

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> So did any one get my Teen Wolf/Stylida reference? Nice right! I'm taking requests so don't be shy. I'm also searching for a beta so feel free to ask me here or on my Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dark-meadows
> 
> Drop a comment if you enjoyed!


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